


the sound of branches breaking (or the smell of burning leaves)

by biochemprincess



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Allusions of PTSD, Gen, Post 3x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:45:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5986615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biochemprincess/pseuds/biochemprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's not running away, if we have a destination in mind."</p><p>"And what would our destination be?"</p><p>"Not what. Who."</p>
            </blockquote>





	the sound of branches breaking (or the smell of burning leaves)

**Author's Note:**

> a short sorta sequel to 'the bitterness of winter (or the sweetness of spring)'. title once again comes from sleeping at last's 'i'll keep you safe'.

Nobody notices at first.

It's not like there are big announcements or neon signs pointing out the flaws in the system. They deal with the situation like they always do. Take the guilt and wrap it up. Not in fancy paper with a ribbon on top, but unlabelled boxes, far out of their minds but never forgotten.

Nobody expects Melinda May to fall apart - isn't she stronger than all of them combined? - so nobody notices. 

Jemma does.

(Takes one to know one.)

 

***

 

Sometimes Jemma wishes she could turn back time. She’d not open Andrew's box, she'd take the fight with soldiers over the pain May has to experience.

But whenever she goes down that particular road, May is already there, cup of tea in her hands to at least subtly hide the glaring attempt of redeeming her from her guilt. Despite her own demons, she's ready to fight hers too.

It isn't fair how much May gives, how bright she burns, how much Jemma takes.

"Whatever it takes." May says and Jemma nods.

 

***

 

There is a quiet understanding between them. They pass each other in the hallways, in the darkest minutes of every night when the world is still asleep, the eerily quiet moments at dawn before the world awakes.

It's an equilibrium born out of thunderous storms they have marched through. The world is back in its balance after being torn apart, the skies have calmed down. But they are still in the middle of the sea, waves crashing their bodies against the shore.

Jemma knows that May doesn't sleep; she's just better at hiding the dark circles of insomnia. She knows that she punches walls in the dead of night, talking even less these days. It's a quiet change, but it is there.

This is the status quo.

And Jemma will change it.

 

***

 

"How much death is too much? When does it start to cling to you and never leave again?"

She doesn't ask in expectation of an answer, because there is no right answer to what happens in her head.

"The first one. No matter how much we try, lie, deny. It's the first innocent life you couldn't save that changes you forever."

 

***

 

"It's not running away, if we have a destination in mind."

She can see how May assesses the situation, trying to find meaning in one simple sentence. May balls her hands into fists until her knuckles turn white. Tension like electricity runs through her whole body. 

"And what would our destination be?"

Jemma smiles sady. "Not what. Who."

 

***

 

(The thing is, it's running no matter what you call it. But sometimes it's the only way you can save yourself.)

 

***

 

The iron flowing in their veins has turned to steel and it cuts those who get too close. Hearts made up off glass shards, rose thorns, daggers - anything to protect it from falling, from loving to deeply ever again.

There is a unnameable sadness in the walls they have surrounded them with. Nobody sees, but they know. The burned, the broken, they know where to look for the fracture lines in others.

They know how they can survive.

They know they always will.

 

***

 

They share the driving equally, with the other sleeping in the passenger seat. Jemma knows that May always drives a little longer than she should, always gives her the additional hour of rest.

She doesn't tell her she noticed. She knows it's something May has to do. It's just another way to keep it together.

Sleep isn't something that has ever come easily for Jemma.

Not as a child, when she could have missed so much to discover. Not during her academic years, with exams in her mind and her nose in every book she could find. Not in the BUS, flying through the whole world.

Not later later later, with memories and the ghosts she couldn't save haunting her every night.

So all Jemma feels at the sentiment, is gratitude.

 

***

 

"You know it's not your fault?"

"You know it's not your fault either?"

 

***

 

The tears streaming down her cheeks at the sight of the broken apartment are involuntarily. The search for Andrew is a scavenger hunt of death and destruction.

Every new hint brings them another victim. Every new body brings them closer to Andrew. It's a vicious cycle.

"Jemma."

She turns around and looks at May, the same broken expression on her face too.

"We need to go."

Leaving the messy homes behind feels wrong, but there's nothing she could do. They are ghosts and any attention would compromise their mission. Still Jemma finds herself hoping that for once they are faster than death.

 

***

 

"Sometimes I miss the stars --- on the other side." She whispers one night out of the blue. Jemma isn't even sure if May is even awake, but the urge to blurt it out is stronger  and it wins.

"Why?"

She turns her head quickly, before focusing on the road again. 

"They brought me home. I wish I could've marked them on maps, finding constellations, giving them names." Jemma laughs. "It sounds stupid, I know."

May's voice is soft when she answers. "No, it does not. It sounds human."

For the first time in a long while the word doesn't sound like a weakness.

 

***

 

 

Jemma buys a bunch of CD's in a Target store they come across, after the always same songs on the radio become tiring. She chooses them by pretty covers and interesting songs names on the back mostly. Pop culture hasn't been on her mind much lately.

Their journey is accompanied by the strangest mix of sounds, a wild combination of soundtracks from then on.

It feels normal. 

(And the victory she feels when May hums along to a song is uncomparable.) 

 

***

 

There is a sunrise.

Far away, on the horizon, on the long road they have to go, the dark blue of the night is replaced by first rays of the sun. Warm and orange and reliable.

It's the sun that lights their way, that keeps them going on, tells them where to go.

There is a sunrise, somewhere in the distance, and they'll find it.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading. please tell me what you thought about it. you can also find me @ mightyjemma.tumblr.com :)


End file.
